


A Path of Infamy

by disapoo



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: BAMF!Dib but still a nerd and a dork, BAMF!Zim but still a moron with no chill, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Frenemilovers??, GIR is practically Zim’s son, Gaz is bad at showing she cares, High School, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prof. Membrane tries his best, ZaDr, lol the summary isn’t really a summary, many dumb misunderstandings, maybe some TAGR later, or is it Frenemies to Lovers?, space outlaws eventually, the clichéd mission truth reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-02-15 23:44:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18679717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disapoo/pseuds/disapoo
Summary: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVEThe biggest smallest joke in the universe and his large headed boyfriend.Reward: some nachos?





	1. Fun and Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day that crazy part of me exploded and overrode my sanity. Ho yay! Let’s get started.

The afternoon sun burned hot against the black of his trench coat. The trusty cloth camouflaged its owner perfectly among the dark roof shingles of a house across the street from the local high school. Glass-clad eyes were glued to a pair of high-tech binoculars as Dib scanned the sea of weekend-bound students for a glimpse of pea green in a striped pink uniform. He hadn’t seen Zim all day, not even during their lunch period, which tipped him off that the space boy must’ve had something big and awful planned. Instinctive paranoia told him so. 

It had become easier for Zim to elude Dib with the introduction of high school class schedules. Their history of fights and disruptive behavior had finally caught up to them. Teachers actively started separating them, arranging their schedules so that they didn’t come in conflict, making it so that they didn’t have any classes in common. He wouldn’t say that he missed having a loud alien break the monotony of his lessons with shrill screams and death threats, but not being able to keep constant tabs on the green pest was inconvenient. 

Not impossible though.

They would never put their war on hold over an obstacle as insignificant as that. To keep him on his toes, Zim would still sporadically barge into his classes to announce his latest evil ploy when the occasion called for it. And likewise, Dib would sneak into the alien’s lessons to spy on him. 

Thankfully, this semester he had managed to score a free period at the end of the school day. The early dismissal was convenient for afterschool ambushes or, in this instance, surveillance. His preferred perch to observe would’ve been the shaded branches of the school yard tree since it offered a view into Zim’s afternoon class, but that spot had been discovered after the recent cyborg squirrel fiasco of autumn. The disaster had sent him in his ingenious squirrel disguise falling out of a tree as furious little furry robots pelted him with acorns. And the whole time the green asshole pointed and guffawed in that clichéd villain laugh that drove him mad. The school had been calling him “nutter” for weeks after that failed attempt, and the cyborg squirrels were still on the prowl for big-headed humans inhabiting their turf. Nevertheless, he was avoiding those rodent infested trees for a while.

His new vantage point did give him the best overhead view of the school entrance though. It made spotting the small alien among the crowd of much taller teenagers easier. 

The Irken hadn’t grown much over the years. A fact that Dib, now six feet tall, even without his hair scythe, found endlessly amusing to secretly lord over his rival’s huge Napoleon complex. The alien’s head barely cleared Dib’s stomach now and that was with the newly added high heels the invader recently started wearing. Of course, when Zim started wearing these new “height shoes,” their classmates had initially poked fun at his peculiar choice in footwear, but the Irken swiftly demonstrated what six-inch stilettos could do to human flesh. The first few bullies who dared to single the alien out over his “tiny gay green faggot self” were shut up with new holes to breathe through their throats, further cementing the invader reputation as a creep to stay away at all costs. 

Of course, the bullies, unable to take revenge, settled to viciously pick on Dib instead, because he had been spotted around the alien often enough. His lean and scrappy figure combined with the regular trench coat and glasses combo gave him a deceptively string bean, nerdy appearance that screamed punching bag, apparently. Finding him to be the perfect target aside from the puny Irken, they lashed out at him. Before, he would have run away screaming, but when comparing them to the horrors Zim made him endure over the years they were nothing. To convey that he had no intention of hurting his fellow humans, he always neutralized them using minimal force, hoping they would get the message that they wouldn’t be able to touch him. But unfortunately, since the majority of these bullies were jocks and delinquents, they just took it as a challenge or reasoned away their injured pride as flukes which irritated Dib to no end as they started using sabotage and stupid rumors to get unjust vengeance. His reputation at high school was irredeemably abysmal.

A flash of a silver backpack brought Dib back from his musings. He tracked the source of the glare to the subject of his thoughts and promptly did a double take, almost falling off the roof in shock. Today it seemed the alien scum was wearing a fluttery pink dress on top of a shiny black tights. The outfit highlighted subtle curves, displaying the space boy’s slim androgynous figure. The elegance of the dress should have clashed with the perpetual gloves and boots the germaphobe wore, but it didn’t. So he was forced to reluctantly admit that the alien looked good. The Irken’s new trend of wearing human clothes put him on edge. The alien’s new disguise strategy was highly suspect and seemed to dangerously catch the paranormal investigator off guard. The occasional wardrobe changes made Zim seem more normal, like the invader wasn’t a soldier from a highly militant race of aliens out to conquer the universe and destroy the Earth. 

Which is probably exactly what the space moron was going for. Blending in, that is. Too late though, he already knew exactly what Zim was. The alien was fooling nobody. At least not me, Dib amended.

Currently the nemeses were at a stalemate, their interactions and battles having become increasingly ridiculous and petty, reduced to banter or creative and over complicated pranks with a side of destruction. More and more of Zim’s schemes seemed to be centered around Dib as well. Or if his nemesis had a world-ending scheme he would always find some way to drag Dib into it, giving him a chance to thwart his evil plot. It was annoying, but a small part of him found the attention and dedication flattering since nobody really gave him the time of day, dismissing him as insane. Personal Zim Theory #218: maybe the Irken perhaps impossibly enjoyed his company? 

Thankfully, his delusions, before they could be taken any further, were promptly interrupted the moment the Zim started overtly screeching into his wrist communicator for GIR to “hurry up and fly him to the arcade for his next evil plan.” 

Dib bemusedly shook his head at his enemy’s antics. For an invader, he really wasn’t subtle. Seamless infiltration would be impossible for that idiot. 

Before he forgot, he used the camera function on his binoculars to take snapshots. Purely for documentation. He would file it in his ‘Zim failing at being a normal human’ folder on his laptop. Maybe later he’d print out a copy to keep in his wallet to laugh at.

Seconds later, a green dog flew out from nowhere, stopped in front of Zim, and sloppily saluted. The alien then primly stepped atop the dog’s head and they both blasted into the sky. Nobody batted an eye. 

He had expected that, but still he couldn’t help internally screaming. How again, did anyone not question this strange scene? He face-palmed and groaned about humanity’s blindness, but he told himself he was past all that. Counting to three and then to ten, he held in his outburst. 

He had long grown out of trying to expose the alien at every opportunity after years of incidents just like this making it obvious that it was pointless to combat stupidity upfront. His past efforts to do so only landed him in the Crazy House for Boys, sabotaging his credibility. Like a typical teenager, his faith in the human race was at an all-time low, but even so he optimistically still held hope that someday someone would recognize his efforts. It wasn’t like he could quit anyway. He couldn’t help being fascinated — addicted — with the unknown and abnormal.

Passion for the field of parascience and space was why he still persisted to chase Zim, aside from the habitual hate that itched at his insides. Besides, someone had to protect the planet from the invader’s rare nefarious plans. The alien might be too moronic for world domination, but his plans always had the potential to cause a lot of damage. Regaining his composure, the Earth’s sole defender vaulted off the roof, only to run into an intimidating figure clad in the darkest black of nightmares a couple of steps after landing. Terror incarnate looked up from her gaming console mid-step, her narrow-eyed glare promised pain for blocking her path and interrupting her concentration.

“Gaz did you see that?” Dib couldn’t help blurting out after recovering from a mini-heart attack. So much for trying to look less crazy. He was about to conclude his life forfeit, bracing himself for physical retribution, but his sister only sighed irritably. She had grown a thicker skin to his eccentricities due to years of constant exposure, especially because the only company they had at home nowadays was each other. His sister mutated into a less violent and outright spiteful version of herself, but it was hard to remember that when her death glares had only leveled up with time.

“Yeah, I saw you with your binoculars and shady trench coat being a creep, stalking your crush. Go away and chase your boyfriend already,” Gaz deadpanned. She returned her attention to her new Game Slave Switch, pointedly stepping around him to leisurely continue down the sidewalk. 

“He’s not— I’m not— nyahhhhrgh!” stammered Dib. He could feel his cheeks heating with embarrassment. “I meant the ALiEn GaZ! I’m going after him; he’s heading towards the arcade. I have to stop him! Head on home without me!”

“Whatever, you obsessed weirdo. I’m trying to beat my high score, if you haven’t noticed.” 

Unbelievable. Throwing up his hands in frustration, Dib stomped his feet in the direction that Zim took off.

Gaz was wrong. He didn’t like Zim. As long as Zim was the alien scum trying to take over the Earth, feelings like attraction and curiosity were weaknesses that the invader wouldn’t hesitate to use against him. And he definitely wasn’t obsessed. Spying was a valid prevention tactic to stop evil from prevailing.

“Sure it is, keep telling yourself that,” his sister said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Apparently, he had spoken all that aloud. “The arcade had better not be in ruins after your date.” 

“Gah, I get it! I’m leaving! I’m leaving!” Feeling the accursed blush start to return, he made his retreat with more haste.

\--- 

The Dib was late. Zim frowned. According to his precise internal clock, it had been twenty Earth minutes since the school session ended. How dare the filthy dirt child keep him waiting outside the arcade when there were important evil plans to execute, the Irken fumed.

He knew that he shouldn’t let one inferior stink-beast distract him from the undertaking of Earth’s doom, but that stupid hateful worm-baby was just so annoying. The boy plagued his thoughts with that large head and nagging voice. Everything about the Dib-creature repulsed him, but Zim still craved the human’s attention, irresistibly drawn in by spite. His archenemy’s all-consuming gaze should have been unsettling considering the threats of dissection and stalking habit. Even more so now, since said child had grown to become an even more formidable foe and an irritatingly tall version of Dib-awfulness. Instead he had become increasingly eager for every verbal and physical confrontation, every dumb squabble and fate-of-the-Earth battle. The challenge Dib presented made him feel alive in a way that put the excitement of explosions to shame. There was even a grudging respect for how far the human had come, from sniveling smeet to something Zim might call a worthy enemy. He still hated the boy to death, but now it was a special intense loathing, reserved especially for a large-headed dookie-filled boy.

The fact that his hate was tainted with impurities warned him that he was changing. His time away from the Empire was making him susceptible to opinions and emotions he thought were successfully buried deep in his mind. He blamed long exposure to this ball of filth and the Dib-horrible for contaminating him with doubts about his mission, his confidence, his dislike for the planet, and, worst of all, his faith in the Tallest. 

His almighty Irken overlords hadn’t responded to his calls for three Earth orbits, and the lack of contact or news from Irk concerned him. Supplies still came through, giving him no excuse to venture out and actively seek out his leaders, but they came at fewer intervals and were of a lesser quality. He wondered if they had grown tired of him. He quickly eradicated that thought; Irkens didn’t doubt their superiors. The Tallest surely must of missed Zim. They’d probably just been busy with Operation Impending Doom Two, helping the other invaders with their planets, presumably. They were just taking a while to get to this insignificant speck of filth is all. Earth was light years away from populated space.

Anyways, everything was the fault of Dib and this horrible ball of dirt. Making him think about worthless things. Question things that were most important. The large-headed pig-smelly and Earth will pay for infecting him with brain worms.

He was snapped out of his agitated thoughts at the insane screeching of his robotic henchman. GIR was already inside, messing with the crane machines until one of the archaic devices spat out a jumbo, plush pig. The disguised SIR unit joyfully hugged the stuffed animal to its chest plate, ecstatically howling about his new friend. Resisting the urge to destroy the toy, Zim addressed his annoying subordinate to hopefully make him stop making a racket. 

“Shut up GIR! Did you do everything as I commanded? Did you clear all the filthy-humans from the local store-units so that they do not interfere with Zim’s amazing plans?” Over the years he had learned to work around his henchman’s insanity to where he got some results from his metallic minion. In general, bribes or making the tasks entertaining worked a majority of the time, if GIR didn’t get distracted, that is. Today he told his sidekick to play ‘hide and seek’ with the humans, in which the minion was supposed to ‘hide’ all the pathetic meat-sacks in the area into a localized cube dimension of tininess where no one would be able to ‘seek’ them.

“Yea I did master! They looked so gooooodd, mashed up together in the cubey thingie. I’m gonna make smoothies out of them!” Zim cringed at that, he really didn’t need to know what the robot did with the humans as long as it worked for his purposes. He made a mental note to suspend his henchman’s blender privileges; he had no interest in consuming liquefied monkey meat. On second thought, he’d throw the captured humans into the room with a moose to make sure GIR didn’t have the materials to make the horrible flesh smoothies. He pushed his qualms aside; the mission came first.

“Good. Now GIR, do you remember what the plan was?” He spoke chidingly. He hoped the finer details of the scheme stuck this time.

“To hang out with the big headed boy and have a happy fun time?” 

“LIES! Filthy LIES!” He hysterically shouted, pointing an angry finger at the robot, but GIR only responded by insanely screaming in joy. The idiotic SIR unit was a lost cause. He should have traded his minion for a newer, efficient model, but he had grown attached to the eccentricities and quirks of this particular one. It would be too much trouble to start over anyway.

“Ugh just guard the door GIR. Make sure no one interferes.” Turning away, he faced the street and impatiently tapped his foot in irritation. 

To pass the time, he indulged in his favorite hobby, planning Dib’s glorious demise. Oh, what’d he’d do to the worm-baby for not showing up fast enough. Maybe painfully shoot him with lasers till his skin turned pink and itchy or black and crispy. Dip his eyeballs in flaming Cheezos so they’d be a lovely bloodshot red and stinging with tears of mercy. Fill his noise tube with bombs till he choked and exploded. The possibilities were endless, and after seven Earth orbits he still couldn’t figure out which horrible punishment would be the most fun and fitting end for his archnemesis. For now, it was entertaining to fantasize and try out his ideas. Dib made an excellent test subject; the boy always gave the best pained reactions.

Zim was beginning to think the stinking human wouldn’t show up when, at last, the long awaited Earth-pig arrived. Clunky modified combat boots hailed his stumbling steps. A trademark trench coat flapped dramatically behind his gangly, pathetic form. His head was as gargantuan as ever, signature cowlick still standing long and defiant atop a black mop of unruly, tangled hair. Brown eyes, unrelenting in their curiosity, shone fiery gold in the powerfully blinding afternoon sun. They glittered amber as they darted around, taking in the situation, before focusing entirely on Zim standing in front of the arcade. The intensity of the stare sent an electric spike through his PAK processors, though the effect was diluted to normal levels the moment Zim took in the primitive vision-correctors askew on a comically puffed-out red face and squeaky wheezing noises. Done examining the pitiful state of his archenemy, he addressed the late human with a smirk.

“Finally, Dib-stupid! Did you get lost in your own stinking city?” He sneered.

“Zim…humans can’t…run…that fast…it’s like...four miles…away…from school…You didn’t even specify which arcade!” Dib gritted out, glowering between pants. The feeble Earth child was obviously out of air, his breathing-holes flaring in vain to gather oxygen.

“Inferior worm! Zim laughs at how weak you humans are! Gaze upon the superior specimen that is Zim!” He struck a pose to show off the dress he had strategically chosen to don. He had a formidable time picking out the perfect one. Certain Earthen garments were almost ridiculously pleasant to wear while others were torture devices disguised as acceptable attire. Having a vast variety of appearance modifiers in all kinds of colors was a strange concept to adapt to and for the longest time he had stuck to his military attire, but the social, fashion-obsessed climate of high school bade him to do more research. His investigations uncovered that the filthy males on this crude planet tended to pander to beings clad in this attire. It was also similar in functionality to his invader tunic anyway so it was not a huge sacrifice. According to Earth magazine sources, dresses were worn to 'slay’ and fill others with awe and admiration. It wasn’t as durable or protective as his standard uniform, but it was comfortable and didn’t hinder his movement despite its inferiority. And if it had the added effect of making the humans subservient to him, then it would be worth wearing.

“It’s not fair! You flew here!” the Dib retorted, recovering a bit and wiping at his hideous face. He then flicked his icky perspiration juices in the invader’s direction as he made his way uncomfortably closer.

“Urgh! You stink! Keep your germy fluids to yourself!” Zim recoiled away from the human and his sweat. He would have to mark this experiment a failure since the unappreciative Dib-beast didn’t seem any more fazed than usual. Just more red and sweaty maybe, but humans tended to be that way when they exerted themselves past their limits. 

“Excuse me! I ran a fucking marathon to get here!” Dib yelled back. 

“Whatever, Dib-smell!” Zim said, waving his hand dismissively. Changing the subject, he then drew the boy’s eyes to the small fuchsia device clutched tightly in his three-fingered grip. “Now behold my latest doomsday device! When I press the button on this remote, all the games in this arcade will rise up to conquer and destroy this world. The humans will be too entranced and addicted to playing, that they will turn into slaves and be helpless for when I take over the world!”

“That’s stupid!” The human objected reflexively, but then fell into a more thoughtful expression. “Wait a minute, that actually might…work? No…it’s still stupid, but whatever. I’m still going to stop you and your stupid plan, space boy!”

“We’ll see how stupid it is when the Irken mech technology I fused into these machines activates and tramples this filthy city into the dirt.” Zim broke off into maniacal laughter at the human’s paling face. The reaction was definitely worth the amount of blackmailing and pressuring it took to get his contacts to send him those experimental Megadoomer parts. He savored the hints of impressed fear in the stink-meat’s eyes. 

Finished laughing, he made to press the button to begin his scheme, but the Dib-monkey reacted by tackling him through the arcade window. Shattered glass sprayed into the dim room, glittering dangerously with pulsating lights from game screens. The enemies tussled on the floor for a while as the lanky teenager tried to wrest the controller away from his possession. The human succeeded, and Zim rewarded his victory by kicking his large dookie-filled head into a nearby arcade machine. He smugly watched as the dirt child clutched at his bruised forehead, leaning heavily on the damaged gaming apparatus.

Cackling at his nemesis’s pain, he allowed the boy to reorient himself in favor of getting to his own feet off the filthy floor and pull out his phaser gun. Meanwhile, the human had wisely evacuated from his previous position. He chased the boy with blaster fire for loitering around. He had no patience for the whining the human had started up due to his cracked seeing lenses. Something about it being his last pair or some dookie.

Cowardly fleeing with the remote in his germy clutches, the worm-baby darted around the arcade, twisting and turning as obstacles blocked his path. Passing by a primitive entertainment device called ‘Wack-a-Mole,’ his quarry annoyingly threw its hammer unit at him, which he nimbly dodged by jumping on top of a nearby arcade machine. HA. Like that would slow down a mighty Irken warrior! The human was obviously panicking about his future overlord gaining on him.

But he was tiring of flitting around, so he decided to risk using his PAK legs to lift himself over the maze of entertainment units. From his high vantage point he was able to confirm that they were the only ones in the building. It seemed GIR did his job and cleared out the inferior meat bags milling about. It was nice to stretch out his metal limbs. He didn’t fear being recorded, the rudimentary surveillance devices the arcade had for defense had been disabled prior to the battle during the preparation phase of his plan. He also made sure to disarm the acid spraying mechanisms embedded in the ceiling. He shuddered; the Dib had often taken advantage of sprinkler systems in the past, catching him off guard on days he had neglected to protect himself with a paste coating. Water was such a stupid way to put out fires. There were superior options; like lasers.

Presently, the Dib had jumped onto a dancing stage unit called a ‘DDR’ to finally make a stand. 

“Stop using your PAK legs, it’s cheating!” The Dib-child stomped on the platform in indignation. For some reason the human’s face was red every time he looked up, choosing to avert his eyes from the amazingness of Zim’s form towering over the human-smeet. 

“Then stay still and pay attention to Zim, Dib-worm.” Zim testily replied. He pointed his phaser towards Dib’s foot and fired. It was fascinating the way boy’s expression was currently contorting, but the human kept turning away, trying to hide the entertaining reactions under the usual bluster of snarl and hatred. Dib wasn’t allowed to look away! How dare he ignore Zim!

“Nyaghh! You wish, alien scum!” The human challenged back. The boy had disappointedly recovered, regaining control over his facial features, and skillfully danced away from the shot threatening to zap his feet. Frustrated at missing, he bombarded the boy with laser fire. The insolent child deftly avoided the rays of agony and simultaneously managed to get a high score on the machine. When did it even turn on? 

The human was laughing high and loud amid the background cacophony of explosions and irritating music. Each missed shot hit a distant machine, but not the Dib-monkey, the only thing that mattered at the moment. Performing an extra flashy back flip right at the climax of the song, the boy stuck out his tongue in a human gesture of derision. The human had the gall to mock him, the almighty Zim? 

“Enough!” He angrily blasted the screen, destroying the game.

The DDR let out a distorted “it’s a new record” before blowing up, sending plumes of tickets flying everywhere. Losing sight of his enemy in the blizzard of flying paper, he started firing lasers randomly in the arcade in the off chance it would hit the squirmy human. He finally spotted the Earth-monkey, the boy’s cover had been destroyed by a stray shot. He made to aim at the exposed pig-smell, but his head was pelted with a handful of heavy gold coins.

The feisty human had managed to snatch a bucket full of tokens from the wreckage and started chucking them at him. The boy’s pockets jingled with the small disks of metal as his rival somersaulted and ducked behind gaming units. Turning the tides of the previously one-sided shootout, a well-aimed coin knocked his blaster out of his hand. The human rolled a coin across his knuckles and smirked, goading him into close combat now that he had lost his phaser. Oh, he would get the horrid stink-cretin for that one.

Disengaging his PAK legs, Zim leaped back down to attempt a punch on the human’s smug face. But his nemesis dodged the gloved fist and slapped the alien’s other arm, foiling his secret grab for the remote. This ignited a round of petty slapping as the human refused to do anymore running. His foe utilized slaps to deflect all attempts to injure or recover the activation device. Annoyed, the invader tried to get a hit to Dib’s face to wipe the mocking grin slowly taking over his enemy’s features. That horrible Dib-creature! How dare he take amusement with Zim; he was supposed to be cowering like a lowly worm! He’d show the dirt-child not to laugh at a fearsome Irken warrior! 

Wait a minute! That stupid smile was a distraction tactic! It was a ploy to sidetrack him from his real goal! Zim adjusted his focus on retrieving the controller for his army of mass destruction. The nemeses were now chest to chest as Zim tried to jump and climb the unfairly tall dirt child to claw at the raised arm with the remote.

“Give. It. Back. Dib-thief,” Zim hissed through clenched teeth, his claws unable to shred or gain purchase with the tough fabric of the human’s trench coat.

“Hah! Never!” Dib crowed, probably amused at the sight of an Irken elite making a fool of himself by jumping up and down to reach the remote. The boy had started patronizingly dangling the device inches away from his reach, always yanking it away before he could snatch it.

“GRRRR! You will not deny ZIM!” he yelled as he finally managed to land an infuriated punch to the teenager’s stomach. The adolescent doubled over in pain. That would teach the stupid earthling to mess with the amazing Zim.

“Shit!” Dib winced. Taking advantage of his opponent’s pained state, he snatched the controller back.

“Hahahaha! Victory for ZIMMM!” he gloated, smashing his finger down upon the red activation button. 

Perplexingly, no army of robotic arcade game minions arose ready to do his bidding. 

Zim stared at the remote dumbly. Maybe GIR mixed it up with the prototype?

“Ha! It doesn’t work. You destroyed all the machines here, space moron.” Zim glanced at Dib briefly before taking stock of his surroundings. Gaming devices were destroyed with scorch marks and perforated with laser holes. The arcade was ablaze and in ruins.

Shock quickly turned to rage. He was ready to rip the meddling earth child a new one, but was cut off as a loud explosion sent them both flying forward to smack into the edge of an air hockey table, causing pain to Zim’s spooch and bruising to Dib’s side. The sudden pain brought awareness of the danger they were both in. Wig-covered antennae perked in alarm as he identified the horrid sound of metal screeching and concrete crumbling. A section of ceiling collapsed feet away from where they were, causing Zim to stumble into the human crouched over the table, snapping Zim out of his momentary panic.

“Move it Dib-stupid!” he yelled, shoving at the still stunned nemesis, forcing Dib to stop being a drooling moron and run as the arcade started to collapse and explode around them. His archenemy’s demise had to be perfect, not by some stupid rock falling on his stupidly large unprotected brain-meats. 

Side by side, the pair burst out the exit. They spilled onto the sidewalk, barely escaping the death trap behind them. Seconds later, the structure finally gave way to gravity, setting off a chain of smaller internal explosions. There went his hard work for the last forty-eight hours.

Catching their respective breaths, the nemeses lay splayed out next to each other outside the abandoned street, Zim’s plan foiled beyond repair. And Dib was exhausted, judging by the gangly human’s labored breathing.

“Heh, Gaz is going to kill us,” The human chuckled, probably still high on his primitive brain chemistry.

“Curse you hyuman. . .” Zim groaned half-heartedly. His scheme was wrecked yet again, but he couldn’t muster any anger, strangely enough. At the moment he did not want to move; he had spent a lot of his energy reserves during the scuffle, and the recharging cell in his PAK would replenish his power faster if he stayed still. The sun-warmed asphalt soothed the aches of his organic body.

Unwilling to move and too tired to continue their verbal exchange, Zim started cataloging his injuries in a tense sort of peace. The damage was nothing his PAK couldn’t repair within an hour. The human was less lucky with his limited regenerating functions. He appraised the contusion growing on the human’s large forehead with a faint sort of pride, that mark would be staying for at least an Earth week or two. 

“MASTAAAAAAA!” GIR screeched through the calm. The SIR unit jumped onto the Dib’s gut before plowing right into Zim’s tender squeedily spooch. The robot then started to scream and flail, waving around pink scraps of fabric and sending revolting stuffing everywhere. “My piggy! PIGGY! PigGY!!!”  
“Augh! Shut up GIR!” Zim irritably protested, shoving the robot off and sitting up to prevent further trampling of his spooch. Even though the dog disguise was soft it still put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on his poor super organ. 

“PIGGY!” GIR continued to wail as he clung to his master’s arm.

“GIR! Stop it!” He recoiled from the robot now trying to feed him burnt cotton fluff.

They vainly tried to escape the racket, but the sharp, high-pitched noise pinned them to the spot. 

“Zim, make it stop!” He could barely hear the human. The worm-baby had curled up into a ball of pitiful, quivering Earth-monkey, hands shielding his hearing disks.

“You do not command Zim!” His own antennae were flattened to his skull in a small attempt to muffle the noise. His wig did nothing to block the air-splitting frequency.

“PiGGyY!” The robot continued to sob repeatedly and mercilessly.

After a while, the long-time enemies only needed to share a look, before grudgingly sighing in reluctant unison. An upset GIR made a very persuasive argument. The exhausted rivals pulled themselves off the pavement in an unsteady, unspoken truce. Zim supposed he was done trying to destroy the Earth for the day and the Dib was sufficiently injured enough to show off his superiority in battle prowess. He still wanted to gag from the thought of having to work with him though. He was getting a headache just thinking about it and the artificial caterwauling didn’t help.

“Look, GIR, we’ll get you a new pig? Just… stop crying already.” He caved. Anything to stop the wailing.

“PIGGY! I loveded you! Why!!!!” It appeared that the SIR unit would not stop until he got a replacement or suitable substitute.

He was disgusted with himself, an Irken invader collaborating with a lower lifeform, an enemy species no less. For the sake of an incompetent henchman that was supposed to serve him. Partnering with Dib filled him with a sense of wrongness, but at the same time he felt that they could accomplish anything together. He couldn’t deny that he worked rather well with this human. The boy was the only being who had a determination that rivaled his own and the brains and cunning to match his superior intellect. Conflicted, he cursed the traitorous feelings the pig-smelly had evoked. 

If only the human would agree to be his slave and work for him. It was an impossible fantasy. The enemy was not to be trusted and Zim couldn’t see his nemesis ever surrendering. The Armada would never allow him to keep someone so dangerous once they figured out the human knew of their race’s various weaknesses and had the annoying ability hack into advanced Irken technology with ease. 

The Dib-nuisance still lived only because he hadn’t decided which method was the most painful and satisfying. Not because conquering this pile of horrible wouldn’t be the same without his nemesis opposing him. And definitely not because he realized that his life would be empty without a certain Earth-monkey to chase after him. He would just have to be satisfied with ending the human in the best possible way by his own hand.

*** 

Gaz gave up waiting once she heard the distant rumble of an explosion. So much for dinner.

From the sound of it, the arcade was probably in ruins and their date was probably going sickeningly well. She sighed and paused her game. Taking two bean cans from the lazy food stash, she sloppily dumped their contents into two plates and slammed it into the microwave. Ugh, it was supposed to be his turn to cook. For Dib’s punishment she was going to grind these expired sleeping pills (therapist-prescribed pills that Dib refused to take) into his beans, just to get some peace and quiet for one night. Though she was sure her brother probably needed it more than she did. Dib was going to work himself into the grave at this rate if he continued to obsess like this. Whatever. If they absolutely had to be incurable morons, they might as well be happy and dumb together and at each other. That way, she’d have to deal with less of their crazy on a daily basis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t grind expired pills into ppls food guys. that’s not cool. my pharm friend said so.


	2. Catch a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think I’m funny and witty, but I’m sure I dum. Btw GIR is mah spirit animal, 99% screaming nonsensical dookie 1% something else that doesn’t really matter (shrug). Okay I’ll stop rambling pointlessly in the notes unless I have something important to add or something. We’ll see. Soon we’ll see. (still humming DDRMAX osts)

The flames had long since died down, but dust was still thick in the surrounding air. They had both separated to cover more ground in their search for something to appease GIR. Zim tackled areas buried under heavy debris while Dib scoured the perimeter of the wreckage for things of interest that may have been launched out of the building in the explosion. He suspected the alien only agreed to this arrangement so that the invader could recover the destroyed tech and phaser, but Dib was fine with it since he didn’t exactly have the strength or resources to salvage heavy machinery or break concrete blocks. 

Dib moved from the front parking lot area into the dingy alleyway next to the store when he spoke up, projecting his voice to reach the Irken back amidst the rubble. 

“Hey Zim! I found a crane machine with stuffed pigs in it.” It must have been one of the unaltered machines that had been set outside to entice possible customers; his nemesis had probably overlooked modifying it for that reason. Miraculously, it was still intact and functional, its lights flickering in cheerful patterns. The explosion had thrown it mostly upright against a cushioning pile of trash bags. That explained its survival. The other machines he came across only had solid concrete as their landing pads. He felt a bit guilty about the amount of collateral damage involved in protecting mankind from doom, but he had won this round. The damage would have been worse if Zim had his way, he consoled himself.

Speaking of which, said green menace was making his way to the human in a surprisingly calm manner, considering GIR was on top of the alien’s head and was yelling into wig-covered antennae at a painful decibel. In spite of the ear-raping noise, the Irken gracefully vaulted over a destroyed section of wall to join him. The torn hem of a distractingly disheveled pink dress fluttered up around slender legs, unintentionally flashing him with the space boy’s stupid tightly clad bottom for the umpteenth time today. He averted his eyes before dumb teenage hormones could make his face flush again.

Zim was driving him mad, even more so than usual. The alien should be more aware of common decency, or else someone might get the wrong idea. He didn’t know why he cared so much about this, but he reasoned that he didn’t want some creep to snatch away his rival and uncover the alien before he learned everything about him. He wanted to be the one to expose the invader eventually, and he wouldn’t allow some passing stranger to claim that right by some perverted fluke. Not on his watch. For now, he would fend off anyone that dared to approach his nemesis with sick intentions. Squick, thinking about such things made him feel just nasty. 

The alien was standing right next to him now, nonchalantly ignoring him to scrutinize the machine and suspiciously check and double-check the back alley for hidden threats. The potency of GIR’s screeching was tenfold now that he was a only few feet away. He debated ditching Zim to his fate, but in the end he decided not to. He had to make sure the alien wasn’t up to no good, doing the evil things he do. Besides, the sidekick’s cries were too pitiful, and it made him feel uncomfortable to abandon the robot when the SIR was so obviously distraught. Leaving the minion looking so sad would be equivalent to kicking a puppy, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Though he should probably hurry and get the pig before the robot clung to his head too.

Already armed with tokens, he plopped himself in front of the crane machine containing the jumbo piggies. “UFO Catcher” adorned the top in glowing letters, though the F and O were dimmed so it instead read “U Catcher” at first glance. The arcade game had a cheesy space theme, filled with various farm animal plush toys. A sufficiently plump specimen, isolated from the herd, quickly made itself an ideal target. He had to repress the childhood trauma that came with the sight of the bloated pink faux animal. Firmly making the distinction that it wasn’t a rubber piggy, he told himself it was irrational to cling onto such a ridiculous old phobia. He determinedly inserted the required coin into the slot and carefully guided the two-pronged claw over the desired pig. And missed it by a millimeter. 

“Damn.” It was hard to accurately judge distance when a certain alien jerk cracked the lenses of the last pair of glasses he had on hand. It didn’t help that the game was also tilted back and to the side, at an angle that would make it harder to drop the stuffed toy into the exit chute.

“Move over, Dib-thing. Watch as my superior piloting skills snatch up the stupid pig.” Stealing a handful of coins from his pocket, the Irken jerked the control stick roughly till the unsteady claw lined up perfectly with the stuffed toy. As it descended, thin metal prongs scooped up the pig and made its way to the chute. It almost made it to pay out, but due to the machine swaying from rough handling, the precious cargo fell from its grasp, inches away from the goal and quickly sliding away from the finish line. The alien started cussing it out in his native tongue, resorting to kicking and slamming the surprisingly sturdy machine. Hissing and clicking, Zim’s face screwed up with rage.

“Ha! Serves you right!” He couldn’t help but blurt out in amusement at the ridiculous scene, illogical phobia of pigs forgotten in the moment of hilarity.

“Shut it Dib-human!” Zim fumed, hogging the game. The alien made an attempt to shoo the human away while simultaneously guarding the joystick from Dib. It didn’t work since the teenager had a longer reach than the tiny alien and his flailing arms.

“It’s my turn now, space boy!”

“It’s always Zim’s turn. Zim will not give up!” The Irken pounded the buttons, trying to fend off the sneaking hands trying to usurp control.

“Sharing is caring!” Dib teased. It was fun riling up the alien. The Irken’s reactions were always over blown and hilariously stupid. It didn’t help that the space moron made it too easy with his short temper.

“Then Zim will never share!” 

A stupid amount of tokens and arguments later, they acquired the pig in the late evening. They had bickered the entire Friday afternoon away by the time the alien finally became fed up with the difficult machine.

A hefty metal pipe, lifted by deceptively thin arms, was swung at the crane game, smashing it open, and Dib swooped in to grab a pig among the glass before Zim went to town on the UFO catcher. He felt bad for a moment before remembering the whole area was demolished anyways and the machine was totally rigged in the first place.

“Here, GIR.” Smiling softly, Dib bent down to hand GIR the pig, shaking off stray glass shards clinging to its soft exterior. Once he got past the annoying nicknames and overall insanity, Zim’s dimwitted assistant had a generally affable attitude towards everyone and everything. Unlike the robot’s prickly owner, GIR had always treated him fairly well. It was hard not to appreciate the little guy when he let him into his owner’s base whenever Dib got the chance to ask or bribe him with tacos. 

Deciding to push his luck while the robot’s master was gleefully distracted dismantling the trashy UFO catcher, Dib mischievously slipped in a newly developed spy gadget into the pig. The nanomachines that made up the device instantly invaded the fabric of the stuffed toy and fused to the plush seamlessly. All according to plan. Well, the plan he’d thought out once GIR had stopped bawling loudly in favor of cooing over the new pig plush. 

“Thanks, big-headed boy!” the dysfunctional robot exclaimed, hugging the toy and, to Dib’s annoyance, his leg in a death grip. He really was sick of the large-head gags.

“GIR! No fraternizing with the enemy! It’s time to go home!” Zim ordered, seemingly done showing the machine who was boss. A pile of twisted warped metal and torn stuffing were all that remained of the crane game. Somehow the trash bags had been set on fire despite Zim only using a pipe to bash in the UFO catcher.

“Yes, my lord!” GIR saluted, eyes eerily flashing a brief red through the dog costume and then blinking a derpy cyan. “See you later, Mary!”

“Bye Zim, bye GIR. See you soon.” He waved, finally managing to pry the robot from his jeans.

“Yes, yes, goodbye hyooman,” Zim grumbled as he left the destroyed parking lot. “Next time Zim will rain doom upon your horrible head.” 

Regarding his enemy’s turned back, Dib took a moment to reflect on the end of their encounter. An encounter where they were borderline amicable, perhaps almost friendly, competing over a crane machine. 

He had to admit he had a lot of fun, despite destroying yet another building in town. Moments like these made him foolishly greedy for more out of their relationship of mutual hate. But he knew it probably wouldn’t change anything. Zim’s mission was to take over Earth, and his was to save it; if anything it would probably make their respective obligations harder. But he couldn’t help enjoying these brief interludes in their war where he was teased with glimpses of the best friend he would never have. Good God, only a tiny bit of mildly kind interaction and he was turning into a sap. 

He pushed the longing down; it was merely a consequence of his lone-wolf lifestyle to bond with the only being that paid any sort attention to him. He lamented his lack of social life. He wanted to blame Zim for that, but he knew even without the alien pest infesting his existence he would’ve been a social outcast anyway. He was simply too smart and perhaps a bit too eccentric in his quest for the paranormal to properly fit in. 

If anything, without Zim, he might have lost faith in the supernatural and his life would be dull as a result. He remembered his brief stint into real science and shuddered at the monotony that might have been his reality. A fond gratefulness for the green extraterrestrial welled up deep inside him, but he quashed it. He reminded himself the space boy was a conniving, annoying, infuriating, evil, little asshole and forced himself to cheer up at the bug he managed to sneak under the alien’s non-existent nose. 

“See you very soon,” Dib whispered at the unsuspecting figures turning distant, smirking inwardly. Practically skipping home in spite of his exhaustion and inner turmoil, the human was eager to see if his bug would make it past advanced Irken security. Payback was fair play considering how much the invader got on his nerves and made a mess of his life.

\--- 

It was night by the time he had made it home. As he entered the house, he was greeted by a darkened living room, devoid of life.

Gaz had already retreated into her room, probably to stream her latest winning streak. And Dad never came home anymore, believing that they could take care of themselves now since they were both in high school. His father had gifted the entire house to them to foster their independence or something and only visited rarely when he wasn’t busy. 

Professor Membrane was always busy though, and now his dad lived at his work lab full time. On one hand, he was glad he did not have his father constantly breathing down his neck to study real science, but, on the other hand, the house was too quiet without him. 

Once in his room, he booted up his laptop just in time to reveal GIR messing around the base’s kitchen. Dib had developed the spy cam to have no blind spots, the only downside was using that feature tended to use up all his monitors and make his systems whine at him. Deciding he did not need a full view of his surroundings and to avoid crashing his computer’s graphic card, he limited himself to the frontal cams.

Currently, the robot seemed to be making late-night waffles for his new plush friend. From the camera’s vantage point on the kitchen table, it was as if Dib was there having dinner with the friendly and attentive SIR unit. The change of pace was nice, considering that over time, Gaz had mastered the art of ignoring him while she ate her meals. At least today, his sister had put a plate of leftover refried beans on his desk, since he missed dinner. In the privacy of his room, Dib pushed around cold beans with his spoon, envious of the fresh waffles being waved at him beyond the monitor. He shoved a mouthful of bean mush into his mouth to satisfy the onset of hunger.

He watched the robot pick up the bugged plush and the plate of delicious, possibly soapy, waffles and jump into the trash can entrance. Though interested to study more of the lower base levels, the human had to look away from the nauseating footage. GIR had started dancing chaotically while on his way to who knows where. 

When the camera was finally still, Dib recognized the layout of the main computer room. The place was different from the handful of times he had glimpsed the area. It was darker since currently only the large main screen was active, though idle. The platform in the middle of the mess of metal cables had also increased in size. 

Even though he was an expert at breaking into Zim’s base by now, there was still a lot of sections he hadn’t been able to gain access to. The main computer room was one of these areas, heavily guarded and locked up tight. It would be impossible to stealthily sneak in without alerting the invader to his presence. He didn’t want Zim becoming paranoid enough to make further upgrades to security and discover that Dib had been piggybacking off his alien internet. He harbored a guess that it was one of the core rooms of the base, holding a great deal of sensitive information about the Armada. 

Dib excitedly analyzed the area despite most of it being shrouded in the gloom. Switching through the cameras, he started mapping out the area from what he could see, referencing memory whenever the camera’s sensors failed him. Dang, he should have outfitted it with night vision too. Meanwhile, GIR had pulled out an endless stream of blankets and pillows from the storage compartment in his head and spread it out near the far edge of the platform. Setting the plate stacked high with waffles in the middle of the mess, the robot plopped down onto a cushion after positioning the plush to face the giant monitor.

“Computerrrr, can me and my friend watch the Angry Monkey Show?” The robot waved at the screen from the haphazard pillow fort.

“GIR, you know that master hates it when you watch things down here. This room is only for important business,” the AI replied tiredly.

“But this TV is the bessttt…” blubbered the robot, teal optics bright with the sorrow of being denied.

“GIR no,” the computer protested, but he already sounded resigned.

A tear trickled down smooth metal.

“Ugh fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” sighed the exasperated AI.

“Yay!” 

Barely half an hour of watching GIR enraptured by a barely-moving angry monkey and snacking on waffles, Dib had fallen asleep at his desk, a faint smile adorning his face.

*** 

“To market! to market! To buy a fat pig! Home again! Home again! Jiggety-jig!”

“Zim refuses to partake in your strange prancing ritual, GIR, so release my hand already.”

“Aw, but it’s so much funnn . . . Come on! Dance and sing with me, master! Piggy likes to dance too. Don’t you piggy?”

“No GIR, keep moving. We are not stopping in the middle of the street to dance in the dark.”

“…”

“GIR, we need to go home.”

“…”

“GIR.”

“Say the magic words and do the funny dance!”

“Ugh fine…market...market…buy fat hog…Zim demands we go home…jiggety-jog...”

“You gotta say it louder master!”

“Forget it GIR. Zim will drag you back to the base if you do not obey.”

“Okie doki master, drag me now.”

“Sigh.”

“Hey Diddle Diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed, to see such sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon!”

“Shut up GIR. There will be no more bedtime stories if you continue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like writing just the dialogue, that’s my lazy talk talkin’. Also I reformatted things so I can blather freely in the end notes :D 
> 
> Sooo … you’ll be hearing more of me unfortunately <3


	3. No News is Good News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TweedleDib and TweedleZim  
> Agreed to have a battle;  
> For TweedleDib said TweedleZim  
> Had spoiled his nice new rattle.
> 
> Just then flew down a monstrous crow  
> …  
> …  
> …  
> (I promise this the last nursery rhyme)

Instinctively startling awake at the militaristic march of heeled boots, Dib adjusted his camera feed from a napping Gir to show Zim’s proud standing profile, framed by a halo of glowing pink light from various lit monitors coming active at their master’s beck and call. He checked the time displayed at the edge of his computer screen. It was close to four am, he had been asleep for a rare six-hour chunk instead of the typical scraps of unconsciousness that came from habitual insomnia. So it was with a well-rested mind that he regarded the invader on the screen.

The alien had changed back into his iconic magenta uniform, Dib noted disappointedly at the lack of blackmail material. Last time, he had seen the invader wandering around his base at night in pink, moose-patterned pajamas and one time a fuzzy bear onesie. Since the green menace was in uniform, it could only mean that he was making an official report on his mission. Despite its futility.

“Computer! Call the Massive!” Zim barked at the AI. 

He doubted that the Tallest would respond to the invader’s messages after all this time. He was pretty sure that they had abandoned the tiny Irken. After three years of blocked calls it was hard not to think so, but his thick-headed rival still persisted after all this time, steadfast in his loyalty. He could tell the radio silence was beginning to wear on Zim. Scrutinizing the alien’s body language, he could read frustration in the Irken’s posture and see exhaustion in those large red eyes. He remembered Zim claiming that his species didn’t need sleep, but he was beginning to think that was exactly what his rival probably needed at the moment. 

He couldn’t fathom why his arch enemy was so devoted to leaders that barely gave him the time of day. But any attempt Dib made to point this out to said space lizard had made the alien defensive and volatile. 

But it seemed today, Dib’s doubts were proven wrong.

Standing at attention, Zim wiggled his antennae energetically in salute. 

“My Almighty Tallest! It has been awhile! Three Earth years and five Earth days to be precise. I assure you that during the time Zim was unable to contact you, the takeover of this filthy planet has been progressing splendidly.” Zim reported to the two looming Irkens on the screen, Tallest Red and Purple. They appeared unamused at the small invader shouting cheerfully at them. 

“Zim…did it ever occur to you that there was a reason why your transmissions never patched through or why we made our location a secret to you?” Red sighed. “Honestly, we’re tired of hearing from you. We agreed that today we’d break the news to you since Operation Impending Doom is already over. Has been over for about two Earth orbits I think.”

“B-but Tallest Red, I have not accomplished my mission yet!” protested Zim. Dib smirked triumphantly at that, like he’d let that happen on his watch.

“Oh my Irk! Look at him! He’s still on about that fake mission we sent him on.” Purple broke into breathless snickers, unable to keep a straight face. 

Fake? Perturbed, the smirk froze on his face as the other Tallest swatted at his partner to stop laughing. Purple only continued to wheeze on, tears in his eyes.

“Aw you revealed it too early. This is our last call, I wanted to draw it out more. Well, whatever. Let’s get this formality over with.” Red sighed. He turned to readdress the Irken soldier with a resigned yet serious air. “Zim, we never intended for you to conquer Earth. We just wanted to send you far, far away till OID2 was over.” 

“I see… so does that mean you want me to return to Irk to help manage the newly acquired planets now that it’s over?” The invader asked after a long thoughtful pause. The idea of the alien suddenly leaving made Dib feel as if a black hole had opened up in his chest, causing a dull panic to grow at the pit of his throat. He had never considered the Irken might up and leave him without a definite conclusion to their feud. 

“Oh no, no, no Zim.” Purple wiped away a tear. “We want you to stay here, on Earth,” insisted the still chuckling Tallest, to the human’s short-lived relief. 

“Permanently.” Red added.

“Yeah permanently!” Purple nodded along with him. The tall Irken had stopped laughing, but there lingered a gleeful grin on that green face, a malicious gleam in those violet eyes.

The alien’s antennae quirked in confusion, mirrored by Dib’s eyebrows scrunching in on themselves. Something was suspicious by the way they worded that answer. 

“Are you…banishing me my Tallest?” An unknown quaver entering the normally prideful Irken’s voice. Dib almost didn’t recognize the query came from his rival till the Tallest responded. His brain started working overtime over the possible implications. What would banishment do to Zim, he wondered. Did it mean the alien would no longer take over Earth? That would be weird, but sort of welcome? It would make his days less stressful, sure. But boring, he realized. It would be boring without the Irken’s chaotic self. Visions of the alien putting all his efforts into blending into society to avoid discovery and quitting evil scheming or moving far away haunted Dib. The idea was like a reverse of the time he tried out real science, but Zim becoming increasingly normal and him becoming more and more desperate and dispirited as time wore on. Hunting the paranormal wouldn’t be the same or a challenge without an extraterrestrial threat from the stars to study about. If Zim became normal and wasn’t an alien, he would look crazy. He would go crazy.

“No, we aren’t banishing you,” answered Red, grinding Dib’s neurotic train of thought to a halt.

“Really?” Zim’s voice full of hope. It almost hurt Dib to hear the expectation in his enemy’s tone. Morbid curiosity kept him rooted to his desk, he had committed himself to hearing the outcome of this transmission.

“Nah, we’re totally ordering you to kill yourself.” Stated Purple gleefully. He saw the invader’s expression start to crumble, but it aborted the action last minute to form an unsure, wavering grin.

“Hahahahaha I see what this is. You are joking with Zim, right? Just playing along because Zim asked if my Tallest were banishing me. There’s no way you would wish harm upon the most amazing invader in the universe ever.” 

At that the Tallest and the crew on the Massive’s bridge burst out in laughter. Dib felt a hint of defensive rage on his rival’s behalf. The scene felt way too similar to what he put up with on a daily basis and the comparison filled him with dread, because he could easily predict the outcome. The sense of betrayal and dejection that would come from being denounced and ridiculed by those that should have been on your side. Dib had bounced back from each trauma with the easy knowledge that the humans were just too blind and dumb to understand, but Zim had no such fall back, his tormentors had meant for each stab to cause pain. Since the alien was the main contributor to his giant drop in credibility, it should have been a real ‘ha karma’ moment. Except, he empathized with the space lizard instead. Left with the realization that they were two sides of the same coin, on different sides of the same struggle. Alienated on both sides.

“Oh my Irk, how deluded can you be? Don’t you realize that you are an absolute failure as an invader? You are not only foolishly incompetent, but dangerously so. Destruction and chaos follow your every step.” Red’s chuckles died down as he leveled an accusing glare at the small alien.

“How is that bad though? Destruction and chaos are the traits of a good invader.” The oblivious Irken declared proudly. 

“They normally are, but not when they put Empire at risk! You caused the whole of Irk to go into planet-wide black out twice! Each time it was a direct result of you going against rules. Its treason to go against the rules Zim.” Purple crossed his arms. Zim flinched at the word treason. 

“T-there must be a mistake my Tallest! Has Zim not been a most loyal invader? Everything I do is for the glory of Irk.” 

“Remember Tallest Miyuki and Spork?” Red cut in.

“Hey! We agreed not to use those flashbacks! And that wasn’t Zim! The infinite energy absorbing blob-“

“Shut up! You made that creature! It’s your fault!” Purple shot back. Pushing his counterpart aside, Red cleared his throat.

“Anyways, to get rid of you, since you were obviously volatile, an exception was made. In spite of your short-ness, you were allowed the chance to become an invader, to hopefully die during the trials or somewhere on a distant planet far away from anywhere important. Obviously that was a mistake, since you survived and returned to single-handedly ruin Operation Impending Doom One in its beginning stages. You killed off all the competent invaders and wiped out half of Irk.” The Tallest both ran a gauntleted claw over their eyes, pausing to cringe at the memory.

No wonder they hated Zim. The Tallest had always came off as jerks, but to think it was justified for the most part. He thought they had just disliked the alien on principle, since he was annoying and tiny. To be responsible for genocide though, Dib shivered. He suddenly felt lucky for every almost successful scheme that blew up in Zim’s face. But he wondered why the alien was having so much trouble with one human if he managed to dispatch a squadron of probably-better-trained, elite Irken invaders in one fell swoop. It also raised the question of why Earth was still in one piece and no worse for wear beyond destroyed buildings and the occasional annihilation of their city of residence. He knew exactly how dangerous the Irken could be, but it was hard to remember sometimes since Zim was such an egotistic moron. The worst thing he witnessed the alien do was the destruction of Mars and performing the occasional horrifying experiment, but both feats had been executed in the dumbest possible way. 

“I- I- didn’t realize I was still on planet…I’ve barely seen the surface of Irk before and the other invaders got in my way! I was simply proving my superiority and usefulness by destroying them- but hey… that was ages ago, surely Zim has already been forgiven?” Zim weakly defended.

“No you aren’t forgiven, you’re supposed to be serving sentence on Foodcourtia still.” Red rolled his eyes, further punctuating his exasperation. “Which brings us back to another reason why we want you dead. The fact that you are obviously a Defective. No proper Irken would so obviously disobey their own coding to un-exile themselves.” 

“But Zim needed no vacation! Zim is an Irken elite! There is no way Zim is Defective! The Control Brains ruled Zim as the greatest invader to exist!” 

“The Control Brains made a mistake, Zim. Who knew crazy was contagious?” Purple sneered. “But we finally fixed that problem and the Control Brains definitely want you dead. You’re not really an invader, Zim. You’re a virus that needs to be deleted.” 

“But what about Earth, don’t you need Zim to conquer it?” The Irken whispered, antennae stalks drooping. Dib could hear the heartbreak in his voice, ruby eyes glistening with unshed moisture. 

“We don’t need Earth, there’s nothing of value there. We just need you DEAD, Zim,” groaned Red in frustration. “Ugh, everything was already covered in your Existence Evaluation years ago. Why are we even trying to talk sense into you? Listen up, Zim. You are a disgrace to Irken-kind, not only are your crimes numerous and heinous, but you are danger to the Empire. It was fun watching you turn yourself in the biggest joke in the universe, but you were supposed to eventually kick the bucket during OID2 in the most humiliating way, not survive each trial that was thrown at you. The fake mission prank has run on long enough and now we’re bored and annoyed, Zim.” 

“And boring us is a most horrible crime punishable by death, especially since you’re so small and annoying.” Purple interjected in a matter of fact manner. 

“The only way you can possibly redeem yourself is to press your self-destruct button.” Red continued, punching his co-ruler in the arm for interrupting him. 

As if silently saying that he would say whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, the other Tallest glared at Red before deliberately speaking again. “In case you can’t go through with it, we’ve put this room on lockdown and set the entire base to go off in twenty minutes. You have twenty minutes as of now. What’s it going to be? Huh? HUH? Entertain us.” 

At that declaration, Dib dizzily got to his feet, still processing each brain shattering disclosure. 

The invader’s mission had been fake all this time? Zim wasn’t even an invader, but a criminal that murdered countless of his own kind? What did the Tallest mean by Defective? Who are the Control Brains? As fast as the questions streamed into his brain, they were quickly shoved down by the impulse to be by the invader’s side. He couldn’t afford to overthink now.

The green idiot wasn’t moving from his spot, it was like the alien just gave up, shut down. It was like seeing himself give up and that really pissed him off. Like hell was Dib going to let seven years of nemesis-ship or whatever they had end at someone else’s hands. If anyone was going to defeat or knock some sense into the green menace it was going to be him, not Zim’s stupid leaders who cared more for their snacks than their moronically loyal subordinate. 

Quickly snatching up the trench coat discarded on his bed, he leaped down the stairs and out the door.

Sprinting down familiar sidewalks and shortcuts he had memorized by heart, Dib made record time despite it being pitch black outside. He rushed through the final stretch of lasers fired by gnomes and the various upgrades Zim had made to the yard. Making it through the minefield of traps unscathed, he banged his fists on the front door of the alien’s lair.

He was about to start kicking the barrier down using his shock-resistant steel-toed boots, when Minimoose answered the door.

“Nyah?” The floating robot stared at him guilelessly.

“Minimoose! Thank goodness, I heard the base was going to explode. Is Zim still down there?” He hoped by the time he got there the green idiot had gathered enough common sense to try to escape, or rescue himself.

“Nyah.” The weapon of mass destruction bobbed in place.

“He’s still down there? Shit! How much time do we have?” How could he forget. Zim didn’t know the first thing about common sense.

“Nyah.”

“10 minutes!? Augh, okay just go. Get out of here.”

“Nyah.” Squeaked the purple moose, wishing Dib a solemn good luck before speeding off.

“Computer! Can you get me to Zim?”

“Urg I don’t know human. I’ve already lost control of a lot of the base’s functions. I’ll try my best. I assume you’re here to rescue him?”

“No! I- Yes? Gah! Just open up the lift!”

“Whatever. Do you mind grabbing my AI core in return? I don’t fancy being blown up.” The computer grumbled, the living room couch rising to reveal an elevator.

Stepping into the rapidly descending lift, Dib could only hope he wasn’t too late.

\--- 

The disgraced Irken had stood there for some time in stupor. The Tallest didn’t want him anymore, they never had needed him even. The blaring of base alarms warning imminent destruction and the sound of his leaders taking sadistic amusement in his suffering filled him with a sense of finality, lending gravity to his new reality. Over the course of the call, all the tenacious fight and denial had been ripped from his body and replaced with the familiar paralyzing weight of depression and an agonizing numbness.

Empty glassy eyes regarded the self-destruct button that had appeared on his right arm. It had popped up on reflex, the programming in his PAK calling it up at the Tallest’s command. It would be simple to press the button. There was no logical reason to not follow the order. His life held no purpose. He was the biggest joke in the entire Irken empire. But still he struggled to follow through protocol. And his hesitation made it clear that he was Defective.

“Master? Are you okay? There’s an angry red firefly biting your stripy pink snake, like a mosquito.” The SIR unit had reactivated in the commotion. The robot gently grabbed at his right arm to curiously stare at the enticing red button on his master’s forearm, Zim made no effort to stop him. 

Maybe GIR would do him a favor and end it for him. 

“ZIM!” Dib, armed with Irken laser gun cannons, barged into the control room, tearing through the door with a forceful explosion. Dropping the unwieldy cannons, the human ran over and pushed aside the robot. “GIR! Be careful! Don’t touch that button!” 

What was the enemy doing in his base? A defensive fury gripped him momentarily as a flicker of life returned to him. 

Did the human spy on him? If so he must be here to mock him, to tell Zim he told him so, that he was stupid to blind himself from the truth for so long. 

And it was the truth, that his leaders hated him, that he was as crazy and stupid as the human had made him out to be.

All of a sudden the energy left his body. What was the point? There was no reason to pick a fight with the Dib anymore.

“Who is this Zim?” Red demanded, annoyed that his laughter had been interrupted by some intruder.

“Yeah! Who is this?” Purple inquired curiously. “His head is big, in a familiar way.”

“Nobody, my Tallest… just… an Earth native.” Zim replied dispiritedly. 

“What are you talking about? I’m Dib! Your nemesis, Zim! Why are you just standing there? You can’t stay here.” The Dib yelled at listless antennae, wildly gesturing. Meddling and annoying to the end this human. If Zim did not know any better, he would have thought the dirt child was concerned for him. 

There was no way. 

They were enemies. 

He had done unspeakable things to the human in the name of their imaginary war. They hated each other. Everyone hates Zim. 

“Why shouldn’t I, human? I have no purpose anyways. We aren’t anything anymore.” He waved the Earth-pest away from his sensitive feelers. The worm-baby was being his usual annoying loud self, but he wasn’t in the mood to shout back or get angry. It looked like his words upset Dib, but his efforts didn’t push the fool-monkey away. 

“That’s not true! You’re my enemy! You’re the alien scum sent to destroy the Earth! Sent to make my life hell! You’re my proof that the paranormal is real, that I’m not crazy.” The human frantically reasoned at his unresponsiveness. 

Why was the dirt child trying so hard? 

Zim was disqualified, making the Dib the automatic victor. It was a bitter thought.

“There’s no point anymore, Dib-thing…Leave Zim be.” A warning note entered his voice towards the end. He swore if the human didn’t get lost soon he would end him for real this time, no more phasers on stun or painful zappy mode. Sharp PAK legs would not miss their squishy organ targets. 

But the worm-child was heedlessly obstinate. 

He should’ve expected that. The nosey boy never minded his own business, let alone obey any sort of command.

“No! I refuse! You’re coming with me!” The human grabbed at Zim’s left arm, the sudden contact of a warm hand startled the alien into panicked action. Fear gripped him at the forceful tone, reminiscent of exposure and dismemberment threats. Everyone wants to hurt Zim. He shrieked in surprise.

“Let go, Filthy Earth child!” Yanking his arm away from the offending grip, he retreated a good distance, PAK legs deployed in a menacing display. “Zim goes nowhere! Especially anywhere you want to take Zim! Zim does not wish to be vivisected!”

“Hey! I wouldn’t- I don’t want to do that anymore. Look just... come with me!”

The human darted forward to grab his boot, but he dodged and kicked the boy away from his lower body. His foot connected with the dirt child’s cheek.

“Bluh! Quit being so stubborn!” Before he could fully retreat, Dib caught his ankle.

“Please, we don’t have time for this!” He sacrificed his boot to escape and skittered to the far edge of the platform away from the persistent Earth-monkey. 

“I swear I won’t turn you in!” The human shouted in his loudest voice yet, catching Zim attention in the unusualness of the declaration. Wasn’t proving the existence of extraterrestrials Dib’s main goal in life, his personal mission? Unbalanced by the sudden announcement, he allowed himself to get carelessly cornered. 

Seeing that Zim was regarding him warily, the Dib-creature then held his open hands up in a cautious manner as if trying to calm a spooked animal. Inching slowly forwards, the boy started softly speaking calming nonsense, murmuring lies like ‘it’s going to be okay’ and ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ The soothing words were everything he wanted to hear, but they were impossible to trust, especially since they came from his greatest enemy.

“YOU’RE LYING!” Zim firing a deadly laser inches away from the Dib-creature’s face who flinched before taking a step closer. The foolish child was still muttering reassuring falsehoods that he desperately wanted to believe.

“There’s no way you would give up on this chance!” He sent a lethally sharp PAK leg skittering out, harmlessly ripping the side of the human’s trench coat. The Earth-monkey didn’t even flinch this time. Face set in determination, the human carefully entered within striking distance, hands still raised nonthreateningly and intense eyes holding a challenge.

“You are trying to trick Zim!” He shouted hysterically. Unfreezing, he retreated back on mechanical spider limbs, uncomfortable with Dib’s proximity. His own hands clenched in fists, he was angry at himself for being unnerved. The Tallest were right. Even without the human dodging, he couldn’t end the pathetic pig-smelly’s life, not even when the dirt-child was practically asking for it. He didn’t know when it happened, but the reality of the human actually dying seemed unpleasant to him. It was a traitorous sentiment.

He really must be Defective and weak to let emotions cloud his judgement and make him hesitate over what should have been something so simple to do. It should have been second nature to end lives, especially one so pathetic and inferior. But right now it felt like Dib was the superior, winning in an entirely different sense. That was unacceptable. He wouldn’t accept this. Defeat was unacceptable! The Tallest were watching.

“Zim will never surrender! I would rather…would rather…” He looked down at the button on his arm. It was so clear now. If he pressed it, all these troublesome feelings would stop and Dib would be gone.

“Zim! Don’t do it! Don’t you dare do it!” Suddenly, the human looked desperate, lunging to close the distance between them. Zim wasn’t fooled. The Earth-monkey probably didn’t want to lose the chance to have him strapped to an operating table. He had been humiliated enough, there was no way he would allow further indignity to befall him.

“Dib-thing you don’t tell what Zim what to do. Zim would rather die with honor.” 

He pressed the button.

*** 

“Let’s party! Zim is dead!”

“My Tallest, we should send probes to check. The Control Brains want evidence the deed is done.”

“Nah no way, there’s no way Zim survived this time. He may not have completely exploded like he was supposed to, but the second part of the programming ran fine. We saw the PAK performing the termination protocol. We saw it overload and everything. It makes no difference if some human wants to scavenge off the corpse. There should be no data to retrieve from the essentially dead PAK. Besides, everything and everyone in the base is going to be all blown up to itty bitty pieces, impossible to put together pieces. Escaping a base lockdown in three minutes is basically impossible. But even if Zim turns out to be alive and they survive a hard destruct of his base, he probably doesn’t even have a way off the planet or any sort of resources. So the video we’re streaming to all Irken stations is proof enough.” 

“Yeah! Eventually he’ll die on that inhospitable, acid-covered rock. But more importantly, for the Zim is dead party let’s do fog machines this time!”

“Not this again Pur! We already concluded this dispute and lasers won out remember?”

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mistakes were made. I was supposed to post this epilogue AFTER the next chapter but uh . . . in hindsight happy accidents happen when you like typing at midnight and posting at 3 am.


	4. Dead to the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYYY i’m back! Life (cough) my self-inflicted misery brought upon my eternal clumsiness and sloth (cough) was kicking me in the unmentionables, so yeaaaaahhh. But I got my BFF (Beta Friend Fellow jk Bestestest Fantastic Friend), Jurice, to look over like two chapters (because she’s even busier than me and don’t tell her I’m slacking by writing fic when I’m supposed to be making deadlines meet in school … like pls don’t she’ll harass me with get your shit together texts). Check out her stuff here! She writes way nicer than my spazzy ass. Btw if you feel inclined to comment on her stuff tell ’em a pun for me. I guarantee you, she luvs those. >:3c
> 
> Well here’s some hot un-betaed stuff right off the fridge’s leftover shelf made nice and steamy from a couple rounds of microwave nuking. Behold its unholy aroma and messy unpalatable flavor!

“You fucking asshole Zim!” The human grabbed at the Irken’s collar, hoisting him off the ground. “I thought for sure that—”

He pressed the button. 

“Hey! Stop that!” Dib swatted at Zim’s hand.

He pressed the button.  
Processing Self-Destruct Command . . . please wait . . .

“What the— Zim?” Concerned umber eyes peered into vacant, clouded synthetic ocular-implants. “Wait . . . what’s that really loud humming noise? Zim? Hey!”

He pressed the b—  
Self-Destruct Command has been processed.  
Preparing Phase_One of termination protocol  
Initializing big_explosion.exe

“Z1m snap out of it!” D1b slapped the frozen alien across the face. “AH! Hot! What the hell?”

Overloady ERROR  
Big_explosion.exe has failed to activate.  
Activating Failsafe protocol  
Continuing BRB Script . . .

Preceding to BackupPhase_Two of termination protocol . . .  
Loading DeleteALL.exe  
. . . Please wait. . .

Attempting to delete ZIM . . .  
. . .  
Attempt unsuccessful . . . 

Deleting PAK functions . . .  
Deleting . . . 0.01% Uninstalling enhanced audio attachments  
Deleting . . . 0.05% Removing laser guns and uninstalling the corresponding operating program

“. . . Z . . . I . . . M . . .?” 

. . . Deleting . . .  
. . . PAK systems are busy . . . cutting off outside sensory and internal input  
Halting all ongoing processes to increase efficiency . . .

\--- 

Immediately going limp, metal limbs retracted and dropped the unresponsive Irken into the concerned human’s arms. Zim’s body temperature had decreased somewhat from that momentary spike of heat, but the PAK was still hot to the touch, still emitting that ominous hum. As he continued to examine the state of his archrival, the ever-present pink port lights started to dim along with the red glow to Zim’s eyes till they were both darkened. Deactivated. Leaving a confused Dib with an empty shell.

It was odd. In his experience, pressing self-destruct buttons usually triggered a large dramatic explosion. He hastily dropped the alien and distanced himself, before realizing that if Zim was going to blow up he probably would have by now. 

“Wow that was it? Anti-climactic.” Tallest Red scoffed off-handedly through a mouthful of donut. 

“Ha! He’s so defective he can’t even perform the self-destructy protocol right!” Tallest Purple burst into a fit of giggles, spewing popcorn everywhere. “Look at me! I’m Zim. So broken and short with my defective PAK that I can’t even self-terminate like a proper Irken!”

Certainly that couldn’t be the end of his nemesis could it? He observed the prone form of his greatest rival and scourge of his existence once again in hope there would be a sudden flicker of life in either the PAK or those huge red eyes.

“Zim?” Dib whispered cautiously as he tentatively kneeled near the alien. He still expected Zim to suddenly leap up, furious at everything and everyone. 

“But hey…” A long finger jabbed the other side of the screen a couple times in disappointment as if he could somehow prod Zim into exploding. “Where are the explosions? Ugh I waited so long for him to be destroyed and he just collapses?” Zim’s Purple leader whined, before pouting.

“He’ll explode if we wait a bit. The base will do it for us and Zim will be completely and utterly destroyed, but I do admit this is pretty boring.” Red mused. “And suspicious. This feels too easy. Wait let me try something.” The tall Irken paused, drawing in a breath before he drawled out in the most insincere and unconvincing voice Dib had ever heard. “Hey Zim! This was all one big joke. We were completely kidding. You’re the best invader to ever exist!”

“Uh huh!” Purple cracked up before contributing. “A-and if you’re alive and uh not dead give us a sign? You’re the awesomest!” They both paused to stare expectantly at the collapsed former-invader. There was no reaction, the small Irken was still and lifeless.

“HA! Like hell he is,” Red scoffed before scrutinizing the crumpled Irken on the floor for any sign of life. “Yup. Just making sure he’s dead. If Zim was alive, he’d totally fall for that, no matter what state of consciousness he’d be in.”

“Wow… He really is gone for good. I wish he got to suffer more. I feel kind of cheated. I wanted him to explode like a meat balloon that collided with a space craft going at light speed. This is just sad, so sad.” Purple wiped away a fake tear, before sharing a mutual silence with his counterpart. The kind of quiet disappointment that was comparable to the moment a child briefly has when an old toy breaks before they callously move on to the shiny new tablet they got as a replacement. The unpleasant calm didn’t last long and the two tall tyrants quickly broke into period of loud offensive laughter.

“Hey,” Purple rasped breathlessly. “Do you think? Heh, do you think Zim maybe could have eventually conquered Earth if we left him alone?”

“Pfffffhpth,” Red spewed out the soda he was gulping down to soothe his throat after their laughing session. “Haha no way, never in a million Irk years. All his equipment was garbage that we foisted off on him and Zim is Zim. A failure.” 

A failure. They were wrong, if anyone was the failure it was Dib. 

Dib had failed. Sure, the Earth was finally safe and it was, by default, humanity’s victory. But it didn’t feel like the win belonged to Dib. Up until the very end Dib had failed to stop Zim. Instead Zim taken away that chance and had quit on him. His vision grew blurry at the reminder and his nose became damp. Heedless of his turmoil, the world moved on and the Tallest were still jeering at Zim.

“I think the best part is how he didn’t even see it coming.” Dib seethed internally at Purple’s blasé words. They didn’t even know what they were talking about. They’ve never paid any attention to Zim. 

“I know right? We were so painfully obvious. I mean, you slipped up so many times Purple.” Red responded, also completely oblivious to the human’s rising anger.

“Hey, you slipped too hypocrite, but yeah… it was hilarious that he was so delusional!” 

Dib wished they would stop, but they continued on.

“Well, it was nice knowing you Zim and by that we mean that it was an absolutely hideous experience.” Red chuckled taking another noisy sip of soda.

“You will be forever remembered as the biggest loser–” Purple began, but was interrupted. Dib had heard enough.

“Zim didn’t lose,” the former nemesis interjected resolutely.

“What did you say large-headed creature? And rude! I was talking. Red is one thing, but I will not have some inferior unevolved—” 

“First off, I do not have a large head and I said,” Dib took a deep stabling breath through his mouth, before imploding. “Zim did not lose! This doesn’t count!” 

“Inferior lifeforms really are stupid. Zim is dead. And that means he lost. Simple as that.” Red stated impassively. The base rumbled ominously as if to punctuate his words. “Well run along now Zim’s— what were you guys again? Nemeses? Shouldn’t you be glad? You won didn’t you?”

“Yeah you won so get lost or shut up or something! The best part is going to begin in like a few more minutes! Also Zim is totally a loser, always has been and will forever be, because we said so. So there!”

“You have no right.” Dib gritted out, his eyes burned with unshed moisture.

“Excuse me? We have every right. We’re the Tallest, what we say is law, especially for Zim. He’s an Irken. We’re his leaders if you haven’t grasped that concept yet.” Red imperiously stated before turning over to his counterpart and whispering behind a hand. “Humans do know what a leader is right? It’s hard to tell with Pre-space age cultures. Savages have the strangest most barbaric customs sometimes.” 

“I don’t care what you say! You have no bearing on my rivalry with Zim! So go suck a duck! I’ll escape here with Zim and I’ll make you pay.” 

“Ha!” Red snorted. “Escape from an Irken base is impossible during phase two of its self-destruct. When it reaches this stage, the structure has already burrowed itself deep into the ground–”

“Yeah! You’ll be so deep underground you’ll never be able to dig your way out and then the base will implode, then explode, and then disintegrate into atoms. Like this!” Purple grabbed his half empty snack bag and proceeded to drop a small explosive in it, compress it into a tight ball, bury the ball under a stack of donuts, before shoving the whole thing out of an airlock, and ordering one of the Massive staff to fire upon it. 

“Besides,” said Red. “Zim is one hundred percent dead, human.” 

Dead. Impossible. An alien so obnoxious, belligerent, persistent, and so… so Zim could not be dead. Not like that. He looked down at Zim’s lifeless form, darkened eyes open and unnervingly empty. There was cold hard evidence right in front of him saying otherwise. He choked back a sob. The tears flowed freely now. 

“You know, you’re really ruining our gloating session,” Purple cringed at the amount of raw emotion the human was displaying. The tall Irken’s face looked as if he was witnessing something truly revolting and gross. 

“Eugh… His disgusting overemotional display is killing the mood Pur. I mean he was already ugly and now… eughh,” Red gagged. “Hey Pur, let’s leave this doomed lesser-monkey. Someone end the transmission. We have better things to do like—”

“Let party! Zim is dead!” 

“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” Dib shouted, but it was no use they had cut the call. 

 

The only the call was of the klaxons counting down the time till the base exploded. The ground continued to rumble beneath his feet. So he was startled when an annoyed voice called out from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“HEY! You! YES YOU,” His pocket chimed at him.

“What the --?” Dib pulled out his smart phone. A familiar Irken insignia stared back at him from the lock screen instead of his usual Mysterious Mysteries wallpaper. 

“Ugggh it took forever to boot myself up on your primitive tech.” His phone groaned at him. “Did you seriously have to install me in your phone? Well whatever.” 

He had completely forgotten about the base AI. On his way to grab Zim, the computer had bafflingly, in a strange quirk of priorities, brought Dib to the chamber housing the artificial intelligence’s core. The computer had refused to let him leave until he took the cumbersomely, brain-shaped core with him. There had been no time to lug it around, so he compromised by allowing the computer to download itself and necessary files onto the only Irken-compatible tech with enough memory space to handle it, his modified smart phone. At the time, he had initially been angry at the AI for delaying him, but the base computer made it up to Dib by directing him to Zim’s extensive armory where he quickly grabbed a laser cannon big enough to maybe melt a heavily fortified door and a couple of smaller weapons he could reasonably stash in his pockets. The computer had scoffed at the recklessness for storming an Irken Invader’s base so unprepared. 

“Anyway . . . where are we? Did we escape? Wait I can probably figure it out. Hold on . . . Assessing location!” The familiar circle loading animation appeared as the phone hummed a sigh. “According to the inbuilt map application on your phone it says we’re in a place called Peru? How? I know it took a painfully long time to fully upload myself to this basic communication device, but it shouldn’t have been long enough to travel that far. What is the situation? . . . Oh wait. I can sort of see through these camera thingies . . . Oh gross! Your face is way too close and leaking fluids! And we’re still in the main transmissions chamber? Wow, there’s only like three minutes until the base blows and you have the time to sit around and ugly cry like that?”

“I was too late . . . Zim’s—” he hesitated. What would happen if he told the AI that his master had perished on his watch?

“Not dead.” The former base computer deadpanned.

“What?” Dib replied dumbfounded at his phone. 

In response, the computer let out the longest sigh he had heard from it yet. “Technically, he’s not dead yet. His PAK ID signal still reads fine from this distance. It’s growing weaker though and we are running out of time. So I totally suggest we go. Like now.”

“Wait what do you mean by yet?” He didn’t want to get his hopes up. “Explain.”

“Ugh fine! It’s just that according to this phone’s bootleg Irken diagnostic scanning system, that you totally pirated without authorization by the way, it looks like the DeleteALL failsafe is just taking a long while to delete all the congested bloatware and corrupted data on Zim’s faulty PAK. So Zim’s not an empty husk sans personality and function yet, but he is currently in the process of dying. He’s not dead, but he will be soon. It depends on what the program is deleting currently. If it’s like the universal snack stop map then he should still be fine, but if it’s something crucial like one of the life support systems . . . Actually this is probably bad. You should do something to interrupt the process, like right now since you don’t seem keen on moving any time soon.”

“What?!”

\--- 

Delet1ng . . . 42.04% universal_snack_stop_map.jpeg

ERR0r DeleteALL protocol has been interrupted.

DANGER! P0werful 0uts1de p0wer sp1ke detected.

Warning  
Connection to PAK has been disconnected  
L1fe Cl0ck timer activated  
10:00, 9:59, 9:58, 9:57 . . . 9:00 . . .  
. . .  
. .  
.

Emergency F0rceful reb00t successfu1

01000100 01101001 01100010 00100000 01111001 01100101 01101100 01101100 01100101 01100100 00101100 00100000 00100010 — Z1M! ― ERROR:170(0xaa) –y0u – 01000101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 – p1ece — 01000101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 – Sh1t! — the D1b-human was smack1ng Z1m with the butt of a taser. 

“If y0u d0n’t get the fuck up now I’ll grab y0ur squiggidly thingie a—and I’ll let GIR chew on it. I’ll—I’ll—bury y0ur dead body in the filthiest germ-infested meat I can find! 1n Bl0aty H0g’s P1zzer1a backr00m where they let k1ds play in nasty pepper0n1 meat vats 1nstead of a regular ball p1t! I’ll sneeze on you and spread bacteria everywhere!” Z1m didn’t understand. D1b was here, kneel1ng bes1de h1m? D1d the stup1d human somehow follow h1m 1nto death? 

“Gah h0rr1d hy00man—!” Z1M snarled weakly, every breath of unfiltered Earth air hurt and his body felt cold and sluggish. In contrast, his PAK burned against his back painfully. “Remove y0ur f1nger-meats from my collar y0u—“ 

“ShuT up! Y0u fucking coward! That was fucking cowardly you . . . Y-you dirty, lying space coward! What happened to fighting and never surrendering? Huh? Huh!” The D1b-human pulled Z1m into his smelly clutches, pressing him close enough to pick up the human’s frantic chest vibrations. He briefly relaxed against the comforting thrum, before his fuzzy memory logs reminded him of whose warm embrace he was in and why it was a bad idea to let this particular lower life form get close in his vulnerable state.

“. . . release . . . Z1M! F1lthy—!” He tried to summ0n a PAK leg, run command killing_stab, but was unable to execute the program. ERROR application not found. Any effort to struggle was futile. There was barely enough energy left to keep his senses and consciousness online, his speech functions were all he was capable of momentarily. So he was utterly helpless to the submission hold that the Earth-natives called a hug. His voice channel was cut off by the Dib’s warm shirt-covered chest meats which left Zim verbally defenseless as well.

“Why did you quit before you actually won anything, y0u asshole?” The embrace was beginning to hurt and Zim’s mighty insides were being assaulted with a new tingly feeling that itched unbearably. The pain! Zim wanted to scream, but the human persisted to try to smother his Zim-head. Zim was at the mercy of more of Dib’s horrible speech-waves. “The archnemesis I know is an arrogant prideful warrior who spits on logic, an impossible-to-kill fucker, a survivor.” Now the human began to squish his own filthy fur-covered head into Zim’s superior Irken shoulder and proceed to ooze nasty sadness fluids all over Zim. There was no dignity in this! And the tingly feelings were increasing, as if they were punching holes in the spooch. It felt like his organs would rip and tear, but the Dib mercilessly continued. “How dare you fucking give up on me? This isn’t how I wanted to win or defeat you! You can’t lose to anyone, but me!” The human finally pulled back to glare at the humiliatingly weak state he was in. The D1b’s eyes, they burned accusingly and Zim couldn’t stand it. Emotion output was at dangerous critical levels. 

He calmed himself down. He stopped trying to yell under that gaze, besides the Irken did not have enough energy for that anymore since his recharging cell was offline. His central processing unit was beginning to slow, but it had enough power to come to the conclusion that the Dib, for some reason, truly and honestly desired Zim’s continued existence. For what reason he did not know, the fool-monkey cared about him, despite all unfavorable odds and years of animosity. The being in the universe that should have rejoiced most at his end was not happy, but expressing what Zim believed to be grief at his failed demise. His spooch twisted and fluttered. Self-termination no longer held appeal.

He came to decision. Irken Zim though he may no longer be an invader or a proud member of the glorious Irken empire. He may be an exile, a defective, and hated by his own kind. But one thing remained unchanged. He was this human’s… rival. He would not give up on that. 

Zim would live to spite Dib, the horrible loathsome human who persisted to annoy Zim. They may not be enemies or have a cause to fight over, but he found that didn’t matter so much at the moment. They would find something else to clash on. What mattered was how he felt currently, the burning unshakable hatred devoted to his large-headed human. The object of his loathing was before him, made miserable and gross, but not because of something Zim had done intentionally. Possessive fury lent him further strength. The Dib should only cry, because Zim wanted him to. The awful depression liquids had to stop. He would firmly take command of this human, his human. No weakness was to be shown. 

Using the paltry strength left in his currently feeble body, he grabbed the lapel of his human’s trench coat. Pulling himself up and forward till he was shmillimeters close to the Dib’s hideously angry puffy face, he yelled, “Foolish hyuman, you talk as if y0u’ve already w0n. But y0u haven’t defeated Z1m! Y0u cann0t defeat Z1m, because Z1m does n0t los—” 

System crash

A problem has been detected and PAK has been shut down to prevent further damage to Irken operating system.

The problem seems to be caused by the following file: ZIM

File has been corrupted beyond repair with unauthorized feelings. For more information, go to the closest behavioral reconditioning facility for more details . . .

\--- 

“Zim!” The Irken fell forward onto Dib. He panicked, but looking carefully, he detected a faint glow coming from the PAK. Zim was still alive. Thankfully, this time he had passed out with his eyes closed instead of open and unseeing.

“You stupid, persistent, little, green fuck. You better not die on me, because I’m sure as hell not going to quit on you.” He whispered at the unconscious alien. Picking up Zim, he got to his feet.

“Oh yay. Finally moving I see. Great job human, we now only have two minutes to escape.” His phone remarked sarcastically at him from his trench coat pocket.

“Oh shut up. Just tell me which way is the quickest—” 

“I know the fastestest way out!” GIR interrupted with a giggle. Dib had a miniature heart attack. He had forgotten the robot had been there the whole time, but he quickly recovered time was of the essence. 

“Great can you show—” 

GIR grabbed ahold of Dib’s pant leg and jetted off, dragging the screaming human behind him.

*** 

Previously in this particular Invader Zim fanfiction

“What- wut! A brand spanking new chapter??? I know this is completely out of order, but HI it’s me! Recap kid! I made it into this fanfiction somehow, because it’s been a really long while and the author is so sucky at summaries that she got me to do it! Personally, I think it’s because she’s that word? Lazy? Distractible? Anyways she made the right choice in picking an expert Invader Zim fan for the job. Last off in A Path of Infamy, Zim’s been stuck on Earth for a really really long while, so long that his nemesis is tall now and they both go to high school! Zim worries that he’s starting to go soft, especially around Dib. It’s okay though! It’s mutual! Dib is attracted to him too! But just because they like each other doesn’t mean that they’ll ever stop fighting or hating each other. Weird right? Remember wayyy back when they had that really awesome arcade fight where GIR’s piggy was destroyed and they had to work together to get a replacement? Dib was really sneaky planting those spy cameras, but it paid off. He was able to listen in on the Tallest’s transmission to Zim. Zim’s leaders seem really mad with Zim for some reason. I don’t know why though! Zim’s the awesomest! So Dib was able to barge in just in time to save Zim, sort of. This chapter, they’re both in trouble and the base has become a death trap! But that’s okay though! GIR to the rescue! Our favorite robot has taken the human and his unconscious companion for a joyride. RIP Dib. I hope it’s not the last that I hear of them. Things are looking real bad, but I’m sure they’re fine, at least I think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this writing this chapter made me so nervous. So I don’t know much about computer things or a computer person (like I’ve never experienced being a cyborg alien Zim-android or whatever Zim is) really, so if any inaccuracies pop up then blame it on Zim being inherently broken and programmed strangely (or because I do most of my thinking things at night). Btw I also very much appreciate the comments I’ve received thus far and I shall endeavor to reply to them once I learn how author people respond to godly comments made by the amazing people that took the time to read my fic. I am a heathen who has forgotten how to socialize properly online for quite some time since I killed most of my social media by running screaming in the other direction, but now life is sending me running screaming back to the internet. pls be gentle I’m in your care (so far it’s been really nice care). I’ll try to update more in the winter when school is being less evil.


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